


Am I Me?

by AvalonOfCeles



Category: D.Gray-man
Genre: Gore, Identity Issues, Not Really Character Death, i seriously dont know how to tag, link/allen but implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 02:54:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15185159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AvalonOfCeles/pseuds/AvalonOfCeles
Summary: He was talking before he even realized it. "What color are my eyes?" It was only a whisper. It was all he could muster right now. Link seemed to be taken aback by this question and stuttered for a moment before Allen kept going, voice raising. "Am I me?" he was shaking and Link's hand was the only thing still tying him to that world.The line between Allen and Neah is starting to blur, even to Allen. How long until he is no longer himself? Is he still himself? Is he still Allen?





	Am I Me?

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this really fast when I got inspired to write something Allen based! I've been wanting to write something about the struggle Allen has with himself and Neah, and I finally was able to do so, and I'm pretty proud of the result. I did write this fic with Link/Allen in mind, but it can easily be seen as platonic. Whatever you want.   
> Right now this is just a one shot. Maybe I'll right more one day. Not now.  
> Enjoy!

Allen woke up in a glass box. Looking around, all he could see were reflections upon reflections upon reflections and-

He froze as he stood up, looking in every direction and struggling to take deep breaths. His heart beating out of his chest, he slowly pressed his palm against the glass, just so the cold feeling would ground him and bring him back. This was a dream, right? Just minutes ago he'd been dozing in his room with Link. It was a dream just a dream- He lifted his gaze to his reflection, to assure himself that yes, this was him. Something caught his eye. It was his own eyes, staring back at him, and he noticed. They weren't completely fixed on him and... had his eyes always been gold? 

It hit him. He realized why, and how could he have even forgotten- but it was too late. He saw his reflection's expression shift into a sinister grin and before he could even react, a gray hand- his gray hand- reached through the mirror and grabbed his wrist. He tried to fight back as he was pushed through, kicking at the figure that was both him and not him and wondering just where the pain spreading through his body was coming from.

But this was him. He could deny it but it was still him. He was fighting himself. Hurting himself and he couldn't do anything about it because Neah was him. He hit the ground before he even really knew what was going on. Pushing himself up, he saw Neah, himself, standing and glaring down, that grin never leaving his face. He saw Neah's sword being raised- when had he summoned it? He saw it coming down and he braced himself, squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for pain that never came. He opened his eyes and saw Neah staring just a bit to his right, sword down next to him. Had he hit the ground? 

Allen slowly moved his head to look and an involuntary, strangled cry left his throat at the sight next to him, at the feeling of blood touching his fingers from where it spilled from the body lying next to him. There was Link, his protector, Neah's ally but his too, lying motionless, lips slightly parted and eyes staring up at nothing, skin staining red from blood, blood, so much blood. His vision was blurring, from tears or something he had no idea, but he barely registered a sword through his own chest, Neah staring down at him with disgust.

When he jerked up in bed, the image of Link was burned into his mind as he struggled to take a breath, and when he felt warm hands on his arm, his shoulder, his mind brought the illusion of a hand grabbing his wrist, pulling, pulling, and he had to shove away whoever happened to be within range. 

"Walker-"

Allen's cursed hand shot out without much control, grabbing the shirt of who he now knew was LInk. "Allen. It's Allen, Link. Allen."

Link must have realized that something had happened. Allen had never gotten defensive about being called by his last name. "You're Allen," he affirmed, not fighting him, keeping his voice gentle. Getting an idea of what had happened, he continued, "You are not Neah." Allen's breath caught in his throat. Link kept going. "Allen. Not Neah. Not a Noah. Allen."

Taking a deep breath, Allen let go of LInk's shirt and dropped his hand in defeat. He was whispering, eyes closed, but Link couldn't hear what he was saying. But he was breathing and calming down and that was all he could be grateful for at the moment. 

Link sat on the bed next to him and they sat in heavy silence. Allen had almost forgotten where he was and that Link was there with him as his thoughts consumed him, feelings of desperation and borderline hysteria washing over him like a tidal wave as he just tried to keep it inside of him and not let it seep into the outside. 

He jumped when Link spoke. "What do you need?" He opened his eyes and stared at his.. what was Link? To him? An ally? No. He was Neah's and he is not Neah. A friend? Not that either. That was wishful thinking. Link's hand reached up and rested on Allen's. What are you to me-

"Allen."

He didn't realize that he was staring at their hands. He looked up, trying harder to focus on what he was being asked. "What do you need?" 

Allen stared at him. He didn't need anything. He needed to be left alone. He needed to leave. He needed help. He needed to run. He needed a friend. He needed to-

Link's hand squeezed his own, and he didn't have the strength to squeeze back. He didn't even have the strength to give an encouraging smile and insist that everything was fine and they should go back to sleep and pretend this hadn't happened like they always did. He was talking before he even realized it. "What color are my eyes?" It was only a whisper. It was all he could muster right now. Link seemed to be taken aback by this question and stuttered for a moment before Allen kept going, voice raising. "Am I me?" he was shaking and Link's hand was the only thing still tying him to that world. Link seemed to regain his composure.

"You're you, Allen. You've always been you." His voice, gentle and calming, shocked Allen near to tears, but to keep them from falling, he just smiled despite that he felt like he was being stabbed in the chest over and over. Just as he was about to breathe a word of relief and laugh off the whole thing, Link shifted to face him completely, grabbing his shoulders. "Stop that."

The order nearly shocked the smile right off his face, but instead, he just huffed a laugh, ready to question him, tease him, act normal, when Link continued, voice and expression angry but sad and Allen couldn't bear it. "You are Allen. You aren't Mana either. Don't pretend to be."

That. That did slap the smile right off of his face.

"You are Allen. You are an exorcist. You are eighteen. This is your home. You are Allen." Link seemed to be desperately trying to drill the words into his head and before he knew it, Allen was crying and he didn't even try to stop it or smile or do anything. He leaned forward, head hitting and resting against Link's chest, who stiffened, but did not pull back. Allen felt arms wrapping around him. "Allen," he whispered, and he wasn't addressing him. He was reassuring him.

They had sat like that for too long when Allen spoke again, voice barely above a whisper. 

 

"God, I wish I could believe you."


End file.
